


Happy Endings

by RavenFal



Series: The Perfect Ending [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Destroy Ending, F/F, F/M, Perfect Ending, Ruthless (Mass Effect), Vanguard (Mass Effect), male shepard - Freeform, red ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenFal/pseuds/RavenFal
Summary: The Reapers are gone. The Normandy is missing. Shepard is hanging on to life by a thread. It's up to Miranda and the Earthside crew of the SR-2 to watch over him until his ship, friends, and lover find their way home. Some of them might even start to grow close.ORTali does everything in her power to get back to a critically-injured Shepard, while Miranda and Jack decide that the aftermath of a war is the perfect time to start dating.
Relationships: Jack | Subject Zero/Miranda Lawson, Male Shepard/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya
Series: The Perfect Ending [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917679
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	1. Prologue

Shepard was barely aware that he was breathing. Everything hurt. Not the low ache the day after a workout, but hot stab into his core whenever he tried to move. He couldn’t open his eyes to see where he was. Hell, he couldn’t even muster a scream; Heaven knows this kind of pain deserved it. Was that a light that just passed over his eyes? The ringing in his ears eased up just enough for him to make out … something. Yes, he definitely heard something. Maybe if his whole body didn’t feel like it was in the furnace, he’d have bothered to wonder what it was he heard. As it was, the fact that he heard anything at all felt like an accomplishment.

So Commander Shepard didn’t hear the shuttle landing. He didn’t hear the search party’s boots on the ruins of the citadel. He didn’t hear the calls for survivors, or the female soldier shout that she was picking up a fading life sign. And he certainly didn’t hear the horrified and astonished calls when the search party found what was left of him. Nor did he feel them lift him into an evac shuttle, or hear the roar of its engines as it sped back towards Earth.

No, he was content to simply fall into a deeper darkness, and let the pain and ringing fade away.


	2. The Unexpected

Admiral Steven Hackett had seen many things throughout his career as a soldier. He was there to see humanity, rather violently, discover that it wasn’t alone in the universe. He was there to see the N7 program was established. He was there to see the first human Spectre. He had stared down Sovereign and come out alive. And in the past 24 hours, he’d seen every military force in the galaxy worth a damn throw their lot in together to put the rest of the Reapers down for good.

So he wasn’t surprised to see the Crucible’s detonation had temporarily taken the fleets’ engines and mass effect drives offline, or hear that it was a damn good thing the fleet hadn’t been caught in a planet’s gravity well when it happened. He wasn’t surprised to see the Geth fall silent and lifeless when the red explosion reached the fleet. He wasn’t surprised that the Quarian admirals were already arguing over what to do about it, or that his fellow humans were asserting their own claims to the salvage. He wasn’t surprised to see that the comm buoys had been disabled. And while he may have been worried, he wasn’t surprised to see that the _Normandy_ and her crew were missing.

He wasn’t surprised, though he was pleased, that the fleets had restored FTL travel in the span of a day. He wasn’t surprised that the Charon Relay was offline. He wasn’t surprised to see the Citadel ravaged upon their return. He wasn’t surprised that there was still no sign of the _Normandy_. He wasn’t surprised when the short-range communications from Earth informed him that they’d already sent what search and rescue shuttles they had to the Citadel. He wasn’t surprised to hear that Commander Shepard had somehow _survived_ being at the epicenter of the Crucible’s detonation, or that everyone else on the station was dead. He wasn’t even surprised that the Commander had apparently died three times since his recovery, only to be resuscitated by those ridiculous cybernetics Cerberus had used to bring him back to life the last time, or that “critical” could barely describe his condition.

But when he actually saw Shepard’s body in person? Now that shocked him.

He’d spent most of the first day back organizing the fleets’ leadership into a temporary government. They’d all have to live together until the relays were back in working condition. At least he’d been able to convince everyone that their first priority was repairing the comm buoys; they needed to know what the rest of the galaxy looked like before they started making plans for the future. Besides, repairing the relays would go smoother if all the galaxy’s best and brightest could talk to each other. He just hoped the rest of the galaxy thought the same.

After that was settled, Primarch Victus and Clan Chief Urdnot Wrex started demanding they throw every resource they had at keeping Shepard alive. It almost surprised him how many of the other leaders agreed. Captain Kirrahe had immediately offered the best doctors the surviving members of the Salarian STG had, Admirals Zaal’Koris and Shala’Raan immediately shut down Daro’Xen and Han’Gerrel’s assertion that the resources were better spent on the masses of other wounded soldiers. The man had single-handedly saved the lives of every man woman and child in the galaxy; the least they could do was save him in return. Even Aria T’Loak could see that.

With that settled came hours allocating duties and resources to the members of the different fleets. It was tedious and dull work that was more suited to men like Udina, but Hackett had seen where trusting that kind of person had gotten them. No, better that he do this himself – no need to worry about hidden agendas that way. When the day finally drew to a close, the human soldiers were assisting the reconstruction efforts, the Turians were in charge of security and police work, the Krogan were there to play bad cop, the STG was in charge of allocating resources, Aria’s smugglers and thugs were responsible for making sure those resources got where they needed to go without running into trouble, the Quarians set to work repairing the comm buoys and salvaging what they could from the Geth ships, and the Alliance higher-ups were there to oversee the whole thing.

Then it was time to face the press. Because of course they crawled out of the rubble the minute the fighting died down. “The war is over,” he told the camera. “The Reapers have been defeated. Against all odds and in the face of the greatest threat this galaxy has ever known, we survived.”

When he was satisfied that he’d given the press everything they needed to put the world’s mind at ease, he made sure they knew to broadcast that message the minute the comm buoys were operational. Then, finally, he made his way to see the man of the hour. He wasn’t surprised to see Miranda Lawson, who _officially_ hadn’t been doing anything during the war, overseeing the Salarian doctors working to bring the commander back. Nor was he surprised to see the commander’s mother, rear admiral’s uniform unkempt and eyes red with worry, sitting as close to her son’s bedside as the doctors would let her. But then he got a good look at the man, and suddenly found it harder than usual to keep his stomach from coming up to say hello.

To say Shepard was a mess would be the biggest understatement of the cycle. Half the fingers on his right hand were gone, and the bottom half of his right leg was blown off. Initially, it looked like his skin was burnt to a crisp before Ms. Lawson explained that most his skin had actually been completely burnt off. The only light in his chard eyes came from the red glow of his cybernetics; the only thing that had kept the man from going brain dead on the operating table. No one should have been able to survive in that condition, yet here was, doing the impossible yet again.

When the surgeons finally had some blood of Shepard’s type to begin a transfusion and began ushering the admirals out of the room, Hackett found himself in the very unprofessional position of holding the back the distraught woman as her tears stained his uniform. He could live with it. Moments like these reminded him he was still human, and he’d be concerned for any mother that _didn’t_ break down after seeing her son in such a condition.

“It’ll be okay Hannah,” he assured her. “Your son’s the toughest son-of-a-bitch in the Galaxy. He’ll pull through this.” Then, realizing the implications of his turn-of-phrase, he added, “No offense.”


	3. Shipwrecked

The _Normandy_ was in quite the state of disrepair. The engines were shot to hell, its comm systems were blown and its guns never be calibrated right again. Though it probably would’ve been a lot worse for any other ship. In fact, Garrus thought, being blown out of FTL travel by a Reaper-killing explosion and crash landing on an unknown world who-knows-where in the Local Cluster without a single casualty was the best they could have hoped for. But then, that last part wasn’t _entirely_ true, they did have one casualty, it just hadn’t been from the crash.

“How’s Joker taking it?” the acting C.O. of the _Normandy_ SR-2 (not by choice, mind you) asked the man sitting across the mess hall table.

“He’s uh … he’s taking it better than I thought he would,” came Kaidan’s response.

Apparently whatever blast killed the Reapers was actually a synthetic-life-genocide-weapon. At least, that’s what Tali and Engineer Adams predicted.

Garrus looked to the left – towards the back wall of the ship’s main lift. Behind that was the memorial wall, with two new names no one had wanted to add. And missing a name that Tali refused to put up.

“I think Tali’s been helping with that; they’ve both been hanging on to the hope that Shepard’s still alive.”

Kaidan gave a small nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Neither of them were very good at this. Talking about feelings, especially _other people’s_ feelings – it was just so much easier when Shepard was here. He had an air about him, a charisma that made you want him to know your life story, because deep down you knew he’d take it in stride. Hell, he usually found a way to put your ghosts to rest. How the hell was Garrus supposed to live up to something like that?

“Don’t you think it’d be better if they just accepted it?” The unwelcome interruption came in the form of one James Vega. The Lieutenant made his way to the fridge to begin cooking up whatever it was he did with eggs. “Sparks keeps saying that she needs to see his body before she’ll put his name up on the wall. Won’t that just make it hurt all the more when we get back?”

“You and Javik never served on the SR-1,” Garrus replied. “You’ve never seen Shepard falling from orbit along with the burning wreckage of the ship you’ve called home for the past six months only to show up on your doorstep two years later like he just woke up from a refreshing nap. I’m not saying I think he’s alive, but I _am_ saying I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked through that door and told us he wanted his ship space worthy within the hour.”

Vega laughed at that. “Yeah. And Loco’d find a way to make it happen too. How long did Adam’s say we’d be trapped here?”

“EDI’s death fried every system on the ship. It’ll probably take at least two weeks to get everything up and running again. Maybe a bit more than that if the structural damage is worse than it looks. Maybe a bit less if Chakwas decides Tali’s fit to return to duty.”

“I’m glad Chakwas is keeping a tight leash on her,” Kaidan chimed in. “She’d just use the work to distract herself from her feelings. That’s never good in the long run.”

“Speaking of work,” Garrus fixed a disapproving glare at Vega, “Weren’t you supposed to be guarding the perimeter?” He’d sent Vega to lead the door guards from the war room to keep the local fauna off the ship. The last thing they need was more repairs to make, and those two deserved a good story for their grandkids. “Keeping the _Normandy_ safe from the terrors of an unknown world” definitely sounded better than “I spent the war with the Reapers guarding a door.”

“Ah c’mon Scars, the only things out here are small enough for those to handle. Besides, I think I was cramping their style.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, those two really got to know each other at that checkpoint. It didn’t feel right interrupting their schtick with small talk, y’know?”

“I hear that!” The new interruption was Joker, limping and shuffling his way to the table. “Why stay where you’re not welcome?”

“Well, look who decided to join us,” Kaidan said. “Anyone else we can expect?”

The pilot raised his hands in defense. “I came down the minute I heard Vega was making huevos rancheros, so you’ll probably be seeing at least half the crew here in a minute or two.”

“Didn’t know I was making food for more than one,” Vega replied, digging into the fridge, “Guess we’re using up the eggs early.”

“C’mon, a good meal to lift the spirits is ex-act-ly what the crew needs right now.”

“So, Joker,” Garrus started, determined not to let an uncomfortable silence take hold. “How are you … I mean, are you doing …?”

“You mean about EDI?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Joker sighed. “I’ll probably cry myself to sleep tonight, but I remember something Shepard told me after Virmire. You know, when Ash…”

“Yes, Joker, I remember. I was there.”

“He told me that it hurt, letting her go like that. That it hurt never knowing where they might have gone if she’d made it out. But he also told me that the time they spent together was worth that hurt. That she would’ve been proud of what we were doing to stop Seren, and if Heaven existed, he knew she’d be watching over us as an angel of victory. Then he quoted Shakespeare or something at me and I started to zone him out.”

That earned a chuckle from Kaidan. “Yep, that sounds like Shepard all right.”

“Hey, do me a favor,” Joker added, “don’t go asking Tali these questions. Don’t talk like he’s dead around her either. She overheard some of the crew doing just that while we were in the cockpit, and shit, I have _never_ been as afraid of the woman as when she rounded on them.”

“Noted,” Garrus replied.

And speak of the devil, the elevator door opened again, and out walked everyone’s favorite Quarian, exosuit patched up and hiding the bandages covering her right arm. For her part, she moved like she didn’t even notice how bloodied her arm and been just yesterday. Then again, maybe that was just the pain killers.

“I heard James was making his special eggs.” She said. “I was wondering if he’d be skilled enough to make them using dextro foods.”

Garrus liked the sound of that. “Yeah Vega, let’s put your skills to the test. Besides, I’d like to see what all the fuss is about. Consider this your punishment for leaving your post.”

Vega let out the galaxy’s biggest groan as he once again began digging supplies out of the fridge.


	4. Tension

Miranda Lawson had done all she could. And she hated that. She hated that she had to leave Shepard in the care of a handful of underequipped Salarian STG doctors. She hated not actually being a surgeon herself; all she could do was provide the doctors with what specifics she remembered from Project Lazarus before she had to leave. At least they’d been smart enough to move him to one of the stable buildings left in London; the field hospital set up outside presented to high a risk of bacterial infection for someone in Shepard’s condition. Not to mention it kept the press from crowding him; the reporters had been told that he survived and was recovering from his injuries, and that was all they needed to know.

The only bright side to all this was the STG ship’s cloning tanks could be used to expedite the regrown of his skin and replace his lost appendages. And, she supposed, seeing the old SR-2 crew as also a silver lining.

Kasumi had been the first to arrive, seeing as she landed with the fleets. She didn’t say anything; she just took in the news and waited for their friends to arrive, offering each a pat on the back before.

Cortez was second, and after being informed that he couldn’t see the commander personally, he took to worrying his hands and listening to what little news the radio brought to pass the time.

Zaeed, Samara, and Grunt all arrived the next day; there wasn’t much need for them to stay with their units for the cleanup. Zaeed and Grunt both began emphasizing Shepard’s strength and arguing about what drinks they should celebrate with once he finally woke up. Samara offered Asari prayers before deciding that the best way she could honor the commander was to assist the Turians with keeping the peace, though like the others she started living out of what passed for the waiting room in this one-patient hospital.

Shepard’s mother joined them not long after. Miranda suspected it would take nothing less than a full-blown rebellion to get her to leave this room before seeing her son again.

It was that night that the STG’s chief medical officer emerged to tell them that Shepard’s condition had stabilized, but that they’d need to finish skin grafts before his crew could see him. Given the reserved nature of the crew, the doctor probably didn’t notice the subtle sigh of relief that swept through the room, but Miranda could tell that they were all walking a little lighter for it.

Jacob and Jack made it the next day. Jacob had that woman of is – Dr. Brynn Cole, was it? – with him, and Jack had apparently lied to her students about which building Shepard was in to make it here alone. Jacob said a few prayers of his own, asked if anyone had heard from the SR-2, then settled down to join Cortez in hearing what news was coming in from across the planet when she answered “No.”

To be fair, the news was rather positive, considering the circumstances. While all the big cities were more-or-less as bad as London, the farmland had remained mostly untouched and survivors were crawling out of the woodworks. Not to mention the fact that with the Reapers so focused on Earth, the mining facilities across the solar system had remained mostly untouched. Hackett was right, they could rebuild.

Jack though, Jack kept a stonewalled face, before striding out the door it what Miranda could tell was a barely controlled state. She knew she should probably follow the woman, lest she destroy something in a tantrum over what she couldn’t control. Miranda was rather surprised, then, to find the woman alone, back to the wall, head in her arms and arms around her knees, just one hallway outside their makeshift waiting room.

“What do you want, Cheerleader?” Jack asked. She was trying to sound mean, but Miranda could tell she’d been crying just a moment ago. If there was one thing Miranda wasn’t sure she knew how to handle, it was a _sad_ Jack. Jack didn’t get sad, she got angry. She’d have to tread lightly here.

“Well,” she said, sliding down beside the tattooed teacher. Really, the idea of the once emotionally-volatile biotic being a _teacher_ , and a damn good one from what she had heard, was more miraculous than Shepard’s survival. “I thought maybe you could use a friend.”

“So then why are you here?”

“Touché. Still, is there anything you need to get off your chest?” Before Jack could deny it, she added, “And I said _need_ not _want_.”

Jack groaned; head still buried. “First Shepard, now you? What is it with you people genuinely trying to make me feel better? It’s weird.”

Miranda sneaked her arm over the younger woman’s shoulders. Given that she wasn’t thrown across the room by a biotic shockwave, Miranda assumed this was the right call. She pulled the woman closer; she knew better than to push her luck. “Maybe seeing a young, needy girl just sets off our maternal instincts.”

Jack snorted at the implication. She raised her head and looked Miranda in the eye. Oh yeah, she’d definitely been crying, despite the smile now tugging on her lips. “Shepard; fucking _maternal_? Now _there’s_ a mental image I didn’t need.” She sighed and leaned her head against the wall. “But yeah, you might be on to something. I don’t know … losing him, it’d be like … like losing your dad. Or maybe your kickass uncle who always takes you to the shooting ranges or … _fuck_ I don’t know. Y’know?”

Miranda couldn’t help the sad smile tugging at her own lips. “Oddly enough, yes.” She’d only ever mentioned how much the woman had grown once, back during Shepard’s Shore Leave party when they were both half-drunk, but it was still true. Despite how she tried to act most of the time, she’d actually come into her own. Shepard was probably as proud of her as any father would be.

She would have told Jack those very words if not for what happened next. Jack turned her had to meet Miranda’s eyes, and an understanding passed between them. Jack could tell how proud Miranda thought Shepard was of her, and Miranda saw how much that meant to the tattooed woman. Then something … unexpected happened.

Without warning, Miranda found Jack's lips on her own, tears trickling into the gap. The only thing more surprising about this situation was that Miranda found herself leaning _into_ the kiss, the arm around Jack’s shoulder suddenly pulling the younger woman into an embrace.

It only lasted a few seconds. Jack suddenly pulled away, clearly just as surprised as Miranda herself. Miranda never would have thought it was _possible_ for Jack to look flustered, yet here she was, watching the woman shuffle to her feet, wipe her face, and (adorably) stutter out a, “Yeah, I should probably get back and make sure the others don’t … die from boredom or some shit.” That last bit was barely above a whisper, and the tattooed biotic made her way back to the waiting room with just a hint of red coloring her cheeks.

Miranda, for her part, sat there in shock for the better part of three minutes. Shepard’s words from that party played back in her head. _This is all just sexual tension, right? Two powerful biotics, forceful personalities, confident in their sexuality…_ Really, there was only one thing Miranda could think to say in a situation like this: “Oh Fuck.”

After making sure her heart rate was back to normal and that her cheeks weren’t betraying her, Miranda rejoined the others. Urdnot Wrex had decided to drop by and was apparently ironing out the details of a “celebration fight” between him and Grunt. From the sound of it, they’d duke it out the minute Shepard was cleared to leave his room. None of the others seemed any the wiser to what had transpired. Except for one.

From the knowing look Shepard’s mother threw her way, she could only assume the commander’s ability to see right through his crew was genetic.


	5. Holding Down the Fort

“The long-range comm is back online!”

That was the first piece of good news Garrus had heard since being shipwrecked. And it was certainly welcome after losing five games of poker to James Vega _in a row_. Another loss and he’d have to pay with his armor. “Excellent work Liara.” He said over the intercom. “And you too Glyph.”

“It was our pleasure, Mr. Vakarian,” came the drone’s response.

The Turian officer rose to take stalk of what this change meant for the crew. Four days of nothing but patrols, cards, and military rations with little hope of rescue had the crew a little on edge; some good news was exactly the morale boost he was looking for.

“Leaving already Scars?” Vega mocked from behind his winnings. “C’mon, I’m sure you’ve got a winning streak right around the corner.”

“Unlike you, Mr. Vega, I actually have important duties to attend to. Coming Kaidan?”

“Not yet,” the major responded, studying the deck like it was a chessboard. “I think I’ve figured out James’ tells.”

“Suit yourself.” If the second human Spectre wanted to lose the last of his money before the engine repairs were even halfway complete, he was welcome to. Garrus had troops to inspect.

He started with Liara and Glyph in her office, debriefing her about what the repaired comm system meant at the moment.

“As far as I can tell,” Liara explained, “nothing yet. I’ve had Specialist Traynor put out a distress signal, and I’ve tried reaching out to my spy network. Neither has yielded any response. I suspect the comm buoys must have been damaged by the blast as well.”

Garrus sighed. “There’s a dark cloud for every silver lining. At least we’ll be able to contact them the minute they get the Local cluster’s buoy repaired. I suppose that’s better than them writing us off as dead just because our radio’s broken. Keep me updated on any changes.” Damn he hated having people reporting to him.

He met with Chakwas in the medical bay. The doctor took the news in stride and the conversation quickly moved to discussing Tali’s condition.

“If you wanted her back to work, you wouldn’t have ordered her to bed rest, Garrus,” the doctor said.

The Turian could only sigh at that. “I know, and it’s important she take it. The last thing we need is her getting an infection while our supplies are this limited. It’s just … don’t you think the process would go a little quicker if you just used more medigel on the girl?”

“It would,” the doctor admitted, “but I won’t.” She had a damn good reason too. It was the same reason he kept sending out daily patrols despite the fact that they’d had minimal contact with the local fauna, and certainly not with anything dangerous. “We can’t afford to be caught off-guard until the Alliance knows where we are. I’m not going to risk being out of medigel during an emergency because I fixed an arm that would have healed on its own with a little patience.”

“I know doctor, I know,” he replied. “It’s just … thinking about her, locked up in Shepard’s cabin, crying herself to sleep every night from a broken heart, looking at that picture of her he kept by his bedside … I just want to give her something to take her mind off it.”

“You do realize the girl isn’t _actually_ crying herself to sleep, right?”

“Yeah, I know. But every time I try to talk to her, she puts a hand over his nameplate; it’s like she’s afraid I’m going steal it and put up on the memorial before she’s ready.”

Chakwas nodded at that. “She’s a strong girl Garrus, but the only thing keeping going right now is hope. Once we get back to Earth, she’ll be with her family again, and it’ll be easier.”

A small but uncomfortable silence followed before Garrus finally asked, “Be straight with me doctor, do you think there’s any way Shepard’s still alive?”

Chakwas let out a defeated sigh. “I really don’t know. He shouldn’t have been able to come back after what happened to the SR-1, but he did. Then again, the Alliance doesn’t have the same funding Cerberus did.” Another sigh. “In the end, I think it’s better to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised…”

“Than to have your hopes smashed into little pieces,” Garrus finished. “Yeah, I understand. Anyway, I should let the others know about the comm fix. See ya’ later, doctor.” This was another thing he hated about being C.O.: shouldering everyone’s burdens. How the hell had Shepard made it look so damn easy?

Javik was, of all things, giving an interview to the reporter (Allers was her name, right?). Oh, Liara was never going to forgive him for that. He hadn’t been able to talk Javik out of his plan to kill himself on an old battlefield yet, and the good news didn’t seem to change his mood at all, so Garrus wasn’t about to bring it up again. Allers, because of course she did, gave him a hard drive full of her reports and stories from the last four days that she insisted be uploaded to the extranet the _instant_ they had contact with the outside world. He wisely passed that responsibility onto Traynor.

Javik aside, the news did improve morale, at least in the short term. The very next day the patrol detail took to their task with a look that made him think they might actually take the job seriously for once. Tali seemed a little more willing to stay in bed. Adams, Donnelly, and Daniels all seemed to work just a little bit faster. All in all, it was exactly what they needed.

Now he just needed it to last until the next piece of good news rolled around.


	6. Progress

Precisely thirty-six hours after “the incident,” as Miranda had been calling it, she joined Jack at the window during night watch.

The crew had decided to take turns staying up all night waiting for the doctor’s all clear. Jacob had taken watch last night, and Jack had volunteered tonight. And as much as Miranda might have wanted to put this off as long as possible, she wasn’t going to get a chance as good as this any time soon. Besides, resolving this situation would make mindlessly watching the nurses run around bringing the doctors cloned skin from the STG medical ship’s tanks or mindlessly watching the endless shuffling of citizens and soldiers trying to rebuild the city or mindlessly listening to the news telling her it was all happening that much easier.

“Hey,” she said as she took her place beside Jack. The view was actually rather peaceful at night; the only movement being a few Turian/Krogan patrols looking for troublemakers. Like this, with much of the destruction swallowed up by the dark of the night, you could almost forget that the biggest war in history had been at its worst here just six days ago.

“What?” Jack was _trying_ to sound annoyed. She almost succeeded, but Miranda had known her too long.

“I thought we should talk.”

“About what?” Jack clearly meant for the question to be dismissive, her gaze shying anywhere but Miranda’s direction was telling.

“You know what,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. When that failed to elicit any response besides a small shuffling of feet from the tattooed biotic, Miranda let her right hand brush Jack’s (attractively tight) ass and wrap around her waist.

Jack hissed at the intimate contact and pulled away from the window. “Fine. But let’s do this where we won’t be interrupted by Zaeed’s snoring.”

They left the waiting room and turned into the first empty room they found. They made that same treacherous eye contact that started this whole debacle, and Miranda admitted to herself that she had no idea where this was going to end.

“So, yeah, we made out,” Jack said. She was trying to be matter-of-fact about it, but she couldn’t quite keep the fluster out of her voice.

Miranda smirked; Jack really was out of her element here. “More like _you_ kissed _me_ before running away.”

“That’s not-” Jack started to yell before calming herself with a deep breath. “Look, this is all so fucking weird to me okay? Before I met you fuckers life was simple. I used people who were trying to use me, I stabbed them in the back before they could stab me in the back, but now?” Maybe it was just Miranda’s imagination, but it almost looked like Jack was shaking. “Now I’ve got people telling me they care about me and actually fucking meaning it. Now I’m a teacher and I’ve got a shit-ton of students who look up to me and who I’d fucking die for. And now I can’t even fucking kiss someone without it meaning something more!”

“More?” Miranda wasn’t quite sure how to handle a situation like this, but digging for information was always a good start. “More than what?”

Jack let out an exasperated sigh and threw her hands in the air. “You know!” She whisper-yelled. “Sex!”

Miranda put on her signature smirk. “So you’re saying you’d want me even if we _didn’t_ have all this history between us? Or are you saying that history is the reason you want me?”

That earned a groan. In fact, it earned Jack pounding her fists on the wall in frustration and sulking. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Miranda couldn’t help herself. She moved behind Jack and slid her arms around the younger woman’s stomach. “A little,” she breathed into Jacks’ ear. The tattooed biotic shivered and went tense, but she didn’t pull away.

This could be her chance, Miranda thought. Here Jack was, confused and out of her element, practically begging for answers Miranda could give. She could do right here, take the young biotic on _her_ terms, assert her dominance in this relationship. It would be so easy.

But she didn’t. She wouldn’t abuse her friend that way. Besides, where’s the fun in winning when your opponent gives you a handy cap? When she dominated Jack, it’d be from an even playing field. So instead of tearing off her friend’s clothes and satisfying her own growing urges, she simply planted a sweet kiss on Jack’s cheek and let go.

“We should head back,” she said as Jack turned to face her.

“Yeah,” came the disappointed reply. “If it turns out we missed Shepard waking up, it’s your fucking fault.”

She could live with that. Well, Jacob would never let her live it down, but she was fairly certain the doctors wouldn’t be ready to let visitors in for at least another twelve hours. Maybe a full day if they really were as incompetent as they looked.

She wasn’t sure how they’d make this relationship last after Shepard was back on his feet. The fact that Jack didn’t let go of her hand during the walk back was probably a good start.

* * *

It turned out to be another eighteen hours before the doctors had finished the cloned-skin grafting process, so the doctors were only slightly less competent than her standards allowed. The commander still wasn’t a pretty sight, but at least you could look at him without your lunch coming up to say hello. His mother, naturally, had first visitation rights. It was another hour before they were allowed to come in.

“I’d like to thank you, Ms. Lawson,” the Salarian doctor said. “Without your description of Cerberus’ procedure, we’d have been tip-toeing around his cybernetics for another two days at least.”

“How is he?” Miranda asked. The man’s condition might have stabilized, but he still looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie. Surgical lines from the numerous skin grafts covered his body, blood drying places where the stitches couldn’t completely hold. His cybernetics still glowed bright red through his skin, and he was still missing his fingers and right shin.

“Remarkably well, all things considering.” This doctor clearly didn’t know this crew had no patience for platitudes.

“I think what she meant was, ‘when will he wake up?’” Jacob replied, arms crossed in annoyance.

“I suspect in the next hour or so.”

“Really? You’ve got it down to the hour?”

“Oh, he actually woke up about three hours ago during the final stages of the skin grafting process. Rather fortunately, the bone and muscle damage he’s suffered caused him enough pain that he passed out trying to grab one of us.”

There was a brief pause where the collected crew just stared at the doctor, before Zaeed spoke up. “You want to explain how a man as tough as Shepard passing out from pain is a fucking _good_ thing?”

“Ah, my apologies,” the doctor hurried to say, “it was fortunate because he did not thrash about long enough to hurt any of us or seriously damage our work. We did have to restitch a few grafts in his arm and face, but that was it. It also informed us as to how much pain he is in; we should be able to prescribe an appropriate dose of narcotics.”

Jacob responded, “So he’ll wake up in an hour because?”

“Ah, because we already administered his first narcotic dose after his episode. Narcotics as powerful as the one we used can easily put a man to sleep the initial effects will wear off in about an hour, and we’ll have to administer another dose about an hour after that to prevent the pain from overwhelming him. I should warn you, however, that when he wakes up, he’ll be a little, eh … oh what’s the human word for it?” he mumbled.

“Loopy?” Kasumi offered.

“Yes, that’s it! He probably won’t be himself until after we can move him to a less potent pain killer. And given that we’re planning to begin replacing his lost limbs just as soon as his skin grafts have been accepted by his body, that probably won’t be for a few days.”

“I see,” Miranda said, “well, thank you, doctor.”

“Yes, well, he’ll be in the care of the nurses unless something major changes. Now, um, if could excuse me,” the doctor said as he awkwardly tried to shuffle out the door through the nine of them, “but I should really be going; my expertise is needed down in the field hospital.”

The former shipmates all took another long look at the man to whom they owed so much, before silently moving back to the waiting room one by one. First Wrex, then Grunt. Zaeed and Samara followed soon after. Cortez, Jacob, and Kasumi followed suit, leaving Miranda to subtly slide her hand in Jack’s and gingerly pull the young woman away; she’d have stayed there the whole hour without Miranda’s intervention, and the nurses still needed room to work. She didn’t care that holding Jack’s hand earned a raised eyebrow from Jacob or a whistle of approval from Kasumi.

Shepard was alive. He was stable. He was recovering. It was all any of them could have hoped for. No amount of embarrassment or relationship drama could ruin that.


	7. Takeoff

Tali was so sick of bed rest. Garrus had let her use Shepard’s cabin – it kept her away from the crew and engineering decks, which in turn kept her away from doing work. But she was so sick of having Adams or Chakwas bring her meals. She was sick of talking to fish. She was sick of counting the flaws in Shepard’s model ships. And she was especially sick of the crew avoiding her. Sure, James had come up to play cards. Once. And she was pretty sure he let her win. Kaidan had come up to talk to twice. Liara had tried “empathizing” with her by bringing up her dead mother, and ancestors know that didn’t go over well. Javik didn’t even bother talking to her. Chakwas and Garrus stopped by once a day, but that was just to check on her health, and they never stayed for long. The only one who actually wanted to hang out with her was Joker; and when the highlight of your day is Mr. Moreau’s jokes, you’ve hit rock bottom.

She knew why they were avoiding her. They thought she was in denial. They thought she couldn’t bring herself to accept Shepard’s death. But that wasn’t it. He’d died before, and she’d accepted it. She’d attended his funeral, tears in her eyes and resolve in her heart. She did everything in her power to move on, to find a new purpose. And she was damn good at it. If she hadn’t lost her entire squad on Haestrom, she might not have taken Shepard up on his offer to rejoin the _Normandy_.

That wasn’t something she would risk again. She wouldn’t believe he was dead, not without proof. If she did, she’d move on. And there’s no way she’d let herself move on if he was still alive. She’d find her way back to him, one way or another.

She wouldn’t wait another day. They’d have been off this damn rock by now if she’d been allowed to help with the engine repairs, but no, she’d spent the _entire week_ in bed, doing nothing, worrying about him. No more. Ancestors, she needed to do something with her hands. _Anything_. And the sooner they got the _Normandy_ off the ground, the sooner she’d see him again.

Because he _was_ alive, damn it! And no bed rest order was going to keep her from him!

* * *

Morale was dropping again. Three days since the comm systems were repaired, and still no response to their distress beacon. Garrus had tried using that to highlight the _urgency_ of their situation, maybe get the troops to work twice as hard and twice as fast to get this bird off the ground knowing that they only had themselves to depend on. He was pretty sure it had the opposite effect. It wasn’t like he was in danger of a mutiny – the _Normandy’s_ crew was far too disciplined for that – but the spark they’d had three days ago had died. The patrol crew barely scouted anymore, meals were had in silence, and the engineers were growing sluggish from their despair. At this rate, another week until liftoff seemed _optimistic_.

Spirits how he wanted to give in to Tali’s requests and let her work. She’d throw herself into it like a woman possessed. Her spirit would motivate Adams, Donnelly, and Daniels to work harder, and they’d be the example he could hold the rest of the crew to. But he couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just the local fauna that worried him; if something went wrong during takeoff, they’d _need_ that medigel to treat the wounded. He couldn’t risk the entire crew’s safety like that could he? But then, wouldn’t letting Tali help with the engines all but guarantee a safe takeoff? Damn it all; Shepard would know what to do.

He almost considered letting Tali work without the medigel; but that was off the table. Hell, it was never even _on_ the table to begin with. In her condition, crawling around the ship's ducts and engine room fixing and double-checking every little thing was bound to open up that wound of hers. And if her suit ruptured while her wound was open? She’d die. Not even Chakwas was prepared to deal with an infection as bad as that would be. If Shepard was dead, and he probably was, then how the hell was Garrus ever supposed to join him at the bar if he let the man’s girlfriend die? And if Shepard was actually alive … then how the hell was Garrus supposed to meet him at the bar if he let the man’s girlfriend die!?

And that’s when it happened. Right in the middle of the Turian’s mental breakdown, right when he was on the verge of slamming his head against the railing in front of the CIC’s ship display, Specialist Traynor spoke up. “Mr. Vakarian, Sir!” she said, voice shaking and pupils dilating. “It’s Admiral Hackett, sir! He’s received our distress signal!”

It took Garrus a moment to process what she’d just said. But once he did, it was like his limbs were charged by lighting. Walking fast enough to make any exercise enthusiast jealous, he order Traynor to put him through to the war room and alert the rest of the crew to the good news. Given the cheers he heard going up as the dipped into the dark quiet of the _Normandy’s_ war room, it was just what they needed.

Admiral Hackett’s form appeared in the _Normandy’s_ holographic projector; as imposing and proud as any Turian primarch, though Garrus would never admit it out loud. “Garrus Vakarian,” came the Admiral’s stern voice, “I understand you’ve taken up the role of commanding officer aboard the _Normandy_.”

“Believe me, I was just as surprised as you, admiral,” Garrus responded. “Apparently serving on all three of Shepard’s tours makes the crew decide you’re the best fit to lead, even if you’re a Turian serving aboard an Alliance vessel.”

“I trust the _Normandy’s_ crew to know what’s good for her. Now, what’s your situation?”

“Not optimal, I’m afraid. We crash-landed on an unknown world somewhere in the Local cluster after the Crucible’s detonation blew us out of FTL travel. We only got comms restored three days ago, and it’s been around the clock maintenance trying to fix the structural and engine damage.”

“I see. Do you have any crewmembers in critical need of evac or any major shortages?”

“No sir. Aside from Tali’Zorah vas _Normandy_ , who’s still recovering from the injuries she sustained back in London, the crew’s as fit as they’ve ever been. We’ve rationed food appropriately, and we’ve been as conservative as possible with our medigel stock.”

“I see. Then I hope you’ll forgive not sending a rescue shuttle; resources are stretched thin attempting to repair the Mass Relays and tend to the wounded hear on Earth, never mind the reconstruction efforts.” Garrus nodded in acknowledgment. He was disappointed, but he understood. The _Normandy’s_ crew could take care of themselves; the resources it would take to get their ship off the ground were better spent elsewhere. “Do you have an E.T.A. on when you’ll be spaceworthy?”

“Chief Engineer Adams suspects it will be at least another week. However…”

“Yes, soldier?”

Garrus stifled the sigh forming on his lips. “It’s just … I’ve confined Tali’Zorah to bedrest. Ever since the crash, Dr. Chakwas has been hoarding the medigel in case of an emergency; so Tali’s arm has been healing the old-fashioned way. If she was fit for duty, our repairs would be going much faster.”

Hackett pondered the subtext of Garrus’ statement for a few seconds before deciding, “Mr. Vakarian, I want the _Normandy_ back here A.S.A.P. If the Quarian admirals are to be believed, Tali’Zorah’s mechanical skills are second-to-none. I want you to do _everything_ in your power to ensure the _Normandy’s_ safe return.”

It might have been unfair, taking the decision up the chain of command, but Garrus was relieved that he wasn’t the one making the choice anymore. With a crisp nod he replied, “Understood, sir. And sir?” He needed to know. The crew needed to know. Tali needed to know. “Shepard – is he…?”

“He’s alive, soldier,” Hackett said with a smile.

Garrus felt his whole body lighten. It was like he’d been holding his breath for the past week and was only now letting himself breathe. As unprofessional as it might have been, he couldn’t stop the smile forming on his mandibles, or the small laugh that escaped his lips.

“Now get the _Normandy_ back here, soldier!” The admiral continued. “You’ll be getting a hero’s welcome when you do.”

Regaining his composure, Garrus stood at attention and saluted. “Yes. Sir!”

With that, Hackett’s form faded from view. Garrus left the com room, moved through the war room, and found himself blocked at the conference room by none other than Tali’Zorah vas _Normandy_.

“I see you’ve disobeyed my orders for bed rest,” Garrus said, crossing his arms in mock disapproval.

“I heard we made contact with Earth,” Tali replied. “I needed to know…” she worried her hands, eyes not quite able to meet Garrus’ own. “Is–”

“He’s alive, Tali. You were right.”

She brought her eyes up to meet his, and without warning threw her arms around him. He got the distinct impression she was trying very hard not to cry. “Keelah,” she said, “I said I knew, but–” a sob slipped through her defenses “I was so worried.”

Garrus returned the embrace for a moment, before pulling back. “I should inform the others; they need to hear this.”

Tali nodded. Then, before the acting C.O. could escape, she added, “I’m fixing the engine.”

Garrus met her eyes, and realized that he would have given this order regardless of what Hackett had told him. “Understood. Report to Chakwas in the med bay; I’ll see that she starts treating you with medigel immediately.”

Precisely fifty-two hours later, the _Normandy_ SR-2 took to the stars.


	8. Recovery

“I should have a mask, right?”

Apparently, if you showed a loopy Commander Shepard that he only had three fingers on his right hand, he thought he was a Quarian. Jacob had warned them it was bad, but this? There was no way Jack or Miranda could have ever imagined the commander acting _this_ goofy.

“If I’m not wearing a mask, I could get sick, right?”

“Exactly!” It didn’t help that Jack was acting as his enabler. “Don’t take any shit from the doctors! If you need a mask, they better give you a mask! It’s your right!”

“Oh my God,” Miranda whispered from behind her hands. Taking a deep breath, she put a hand on Jack’s shoulder to stop the nonsense before it got any worse. “Shepard, I’m trying to tell you that the _Normandy’s_ on its way back. It’ll be here tomorrow.”

“That’s why I need the mask!” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What’s Tali going to think if I’m not wearing a mask? It’s indecent!”

“Dude,” Jack enabled, “If the girl cared about being decent, what the fuck were those noises coming from your bedroom two months ago?” Miranda had done her best to block out that particular part of Shepard’s party; there were some things even she didn’t need to know.

“You know what?” Miranda stood up, pulling Jack up despite the woman’s protests. “I think we should let the commander get some rest.” The nurse, who’d been standing out of the corner and blushing since they’d been in here, nodded his head in vigorous agreement. “Have a good sleep, Shepard.”

Ruthless as ever, the commander didn’t let them leave without one more narcotic-fueled comment. “Have you two had a baby yet?”

That question stopped them in their tracks. Both women looked back at Shepard speechless, mouths agape. Miranda found her voice first.

“Um … no, commander. We haven’t.”

“That’s a shame,” he said as the nurse prepared his next dose of the pain killer. “You two would make the cutest babies.”

Blushes coloring their cheeks, the two women returned to the waiting room. The crewmembers who were still there turned to stare at them.

“Did he ask you about babies?” Jacob asked. Kasumi burst out laughing.

“He asked you too?”

“Oh yeah,” Jacob said. “He asked when he’d get to see my triplets. When I told him I wasn’t having triplets, he started giving me the silent treatment! I didn’t know loopy people _could_ give you the silent treatment.”

“It’s Shepard,” Zaeed pointed out. And really, there wasn’t any arguing with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, there was supposed to be another romantic moment between Jack and Miranda to end this chapter. However, it turned into a full-blown sex scene. I tend to publish those separately for my more ... T-rated readers. You can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386954) if you're interested.


	9. Homecoming

A hero’s welcome indeed.

When the _Normandy_ emerged from FTL travel above Earth, a full fighter squadron provided them an escort to the _Destiny Ascension_. They docked with the Asari dreadnaught, and every crewmember, from Garrus to Joker to Adams to Chakwas to Traynor gathered on Deck 2. When the doors opened, the away team led the march out, where the combined leadership of every fleet from that final battle greeted them with a salute. Off to the side stood a small group of reporters, journalists, and cameramen; their return would probably be making every news channel in the galaxy.

Tali scanned the crowd. Her Aunty Raan was there, alongside her fellow admirals. She recognized Wrex, Hackett, Captain Kirrahe, and Primarch Victus as well. As they drew closer, she thought she could make out the former crewmembers of the SR-2 as well. Under any other circumstances, she’d be honored, awed, and maybe a little sheepish. But today, all she could feel was anxious. No matter how many times she scanned the crowd, she couldn’t see Shepard.

Focused as she was on scanning the crowd, she almost didn’t notice Garrus bring them to a stop a respectable distance from the amassed leaders, and she was one of the last crewmembers to return the salute. If her mind wasn’t so preoccupied, she’d have been embarrassed.

She barely listened to Hackett’s praise. Something about them being heroes and a perfect example of a loyal crew and an inspiration to their fellow soldiers and blah blah blah. If she hadn’t grown up an admiral’s daughter, she wasn’t sure she’d have mustered the patience to stand at attention through the whole thing. Her eyes kept scanning the crowd; Wrex and her former crewmates all looked as happy as could be. That was probably a good sign; they wouldn’t be smiling like that if Shepard wasn’t safe, wherever he was.

Hackett finally finished, and the away team – plus Joker and Traynor – was led into a more private room, away from the cameras and unfamiliar faces. Well, all except one. Some human woman, a rear admiral judging by her uniform, joined them alongside Wrex, Raan, Victus, and Hackett. The formal air dropped, and Kaidan, Garrus, and Liara found themselves in the middle of what looked like a mildly painful group hug, courtesy of Wrex. Tali found herself in Raan’s embrace.

“Oh child,” her aunty said, “I was afraid I’d never see you again. I’m so proud of you.”

At any other time, Tali would have embraced her old friend with equal vigor. In her current state of mind, she managed a small, gingerly embrace before pulling back and asking, “Where’s Shepard?”

Raan nodded towards Hackett and the rear admiral. “You will want to ask them.”

Before she could, she found that Wrex wasn’t going to leave her un-hugged. She’d have to explain the whole “Uncle Urdnot” thing to Raan later. When Wrex decided to let her breathe again, Hackett finally gave her some answers.

“I’m sure you’re all curious as to Commander Shepard’s condition,” he began. “Approximately three hours after the Crucible’s detonation, what remained of Earth’s resistance launched search-and-rescue shuttles to the Citadel. Commander Shepard was the only survivor, and to say they found him in bad condition would be the understatement of the century. With the assistance of your friend Miranda Lawson, the doctors at the field hospital were able to keep him alive long enough for the joint fleets to return, at which point a group of Salarian medics lent by Captain Kirrahe took charge. He was stabilized within forty-eight hours, and they’ve spent the past week using their cloning tanks to resuscitate him.” Keelah, was that bad? A whole _week_ of cloning therapy? Maybe it was a good thing it took them so long to get back; Tali wasn’t sure she’d have been able to handle seeing him that broken.

“The commander is currently undergoing the last stages of his surgery at an undisclosed location in London,” Hackett continued. “We’ve done everything in our power to keep the vultures of the press away while he heals. You’ll each be taken there, but in separate shuttles and at different times to keep from arousing suspicion.” He motioned towards the rear admiral. “Allow me to introduce Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard, the commander’s mother.”

Tali suddenly found her herself standing much straighter.

Shepard’s mother greeted each of them in turn, praising their skills and thanking them for looking after her son. Tali was very glad there were only eight of them; she didn’t know if she’d be able to survive her heart rate climbing any higher.

When she came to the young Quarian, her only words were, “And you must be Tali,” accompanied by a small, knowing smile. Apparently she could survive a higher heart rate.

“Uhm, yes. Yes ma’am!” she stuttered. Not Ms. vas Normandy, not Tali’Zorah, _Tali_. She’d called everyone else by their full names. How much did she know?

The woman’s chuckle did nothing to ease Tali’s nerves. “There’s no need to be nervous. John found plenty of opportunities to write when the Alliance kept him grounded. More than one email mentioned you.”

Tali was very glad she was wearing a mask; she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to live down the blush spreading across her face. She could barely handle the snickering coming from her male companions. Never mind Wrex’s full-bellied laugh. Even Liara was barely holding back a giggle.

Well, since she apparently didn’t have any dignity left to lose… “Would … would it be okay if you took me to see him first?” Ancestors, all her stuttering and twiddling of fingers couldn’t be a good first impression.

His mother’s smile didn’t fade, however. In fact, her eyes seemed to lighten just a bit. The wizened woman put a reassuring hand on Tali’s shoulder, gently held her gaze, and said, “Of course, dear.” Tali finally felt her heart rate return to normal.


	10. Waking Up

Everything hurt. Every nook and cranny of his body was sore, and just blinking his eyes open nearly gave him a headache. Still, he was awake. And the pain was good; it meant he was alive. His memory was fuzzy; had he woken up earlier? Or had those been dreams? Either way, he needed to take stock of his situation.

Against his body’s wishes, John Shepard raised himself onto his elbows and looked around. He was in a makeshift hospital room of some sort. On his left stood a heart-rate monitor and an I.V. drip connected to his left arm. And on his right…

Shepard’s breath caught in his throat. Tali. Tali was sitting just out of arms reach, in a chair propped up against the room’s wall. She was asleep – if the lowered head and relaxed position were any indication. She was alive. Or Heaven was a lot less fun than he’d been led to believe.

“Tali,” he said. His voice was raspy and dim, and failed to reach her. With far more effort than it should have taken, he called again. “Tali!”

The second time woke her. She stirred, head turning, eyes blinking, before she realized he was awake. “John!” she cried, bolting up and rushing to his bedside. She very nearly threw her arms around him; she stopped short and settled her hands on his bed. “You should lie back down. The doctors said you shouldn’t be moving for at least another few days.”

“Screw them,” he said, pushing himself further. He was vanguard after all, how could anyone expect him to just sit in one place? “If I want to get up I wi-” the sentence was cut off as pain shot through his whole body and his vision blurred. He heard Tali cry out and rush to steady him; he felt her hands guiding his head back down to the pillow. Maybe today was a day to follow the doctor’s orders.

A minute passed before his vision cleared. He turned his head to meet Tali’s eyes; even with the mask, he could see her concern. “What happened?” He asked.

Tali’s response was slow and measured despite the desperation in her voice. Had she practiced this? “You were severely hurt when the Crucible fired. You’ve spent over a week receiving clone therapy from the STG’s medics.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t two years this time,” he joked. “Plus, I’ve had you watching over me.”

“Actually,” Tali’s eyes drifted away from his, her voice turning sheepish, “I’ve only been here for about eighteen hours. You see,” she hurried to explain, “the _Normandy_ crashed, and it took us this long to repair her.”

Really? That long? How could EDI … The Catalyst’s warning played over in his head. “EDI?” he asked.

“She’s … she’s gone,” Tali said gravely.

“And the Geth?”

“Them too.”

Shepard inhaled, and stared at the ceiling. He’d never been one to shy away from making sacrifices, of himself or his squad, to accomplish the mission. It didn’t mean he enjoyed it. Plus, the genocide of an entire race was a bit further than gunning down slavers on Torfan. Still, there’d be time to apologize to Joker later, and he’d spend just as much time apologizing to Legion as he would to Ash when he and Garrus finally made it to the bar. He couldn’t dwell on it now; that accomplished nothing. His attention turned back to Tali, and though it ached and pained him, he moved to thread his hand with hers. That’s when he noticed the casts on his fingers.

“Tali,” he said, hazy memories clawing at the back of his mind, “was I out the whole time?”

“Uhm…” Tali’s voice was hesitant, but not like when she was talking about EDI or his injuries. In fact, she almost sounded embarrassed. “Not, exactly. Miranda said you’ve been slipping in and out of consciousness for a few days now, but you’ve been so loopy from the pain killers that everything you’ve said as been … well…”

“I said something embarrassing, didn’t I?”

“Yesterday you refused to believe the doctors had replaced your fingers. You kept insisting that having three fingers made you a Quarian, and you kept asking to borrow my mask.” Oof. Well, of all things to say while completely out of it, that wasn’t so bad. “When I asked you what I was supposed to do without it, you said I should ‘show my gorgeous face off to everyone.’” Hey, he even managed to flirt during the whole thing! His game was better than he thought. “In front of your mother.” Oh.

Staff Commander Johnathan Shepard of the Alliance, and first human Spectre, did not blush. Never. Whatever heat was rising to his cheeks must have been a side effect of whatever new painkiller the doctors had moved him to. Because he did. Not. Blush. Period.

“Anything else?” he managed to ask.

“Well…” Oh God, what else had he done? “You promised everyone else from the Normandy, including Liara, that you’d find them a girlfriend. You called Liara pretty, the said she wasn’t as cute as me.” Was that a net gain or a net loss? “And you kept asking whether humans and Quarians could have babies.”

Well, his squad was never let him live that down, but so be it. If the only lasting injury he received from the Reaper War was wounded pride, he was doing pretty good for himself. Still, he thought he remembered some of that. In fact, now that she’d said it, Shepard’s memory was beginning to clear a little. Especially the part about the babies; he had a strong feeling in whatever was left of his gut that he’d been talking about babies a lot. Including…

“Are Miranda and Jack together, or was that a dream?”

That earned a nervous giggle from his girlfriend. “I’m just as surprised as you. They’ve been inseparable ever since we got back. It’s weird.”

After a short laugh, the two found they didn’t have much else say. Not that they could put into words, anyway. So they simply stayed there, taking comfort in each other’s presence, Tali occasionally running her thumb along Shepard’s hand to show what affection his condition allowed her to. The commander wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it ended too soon.

Tali stood up. “Anyway,” she said, her fingers lingering on his, “I should go call your mom. And the doctor. They made me promise to get them when you woke up. Plus, Hackett’s going to want to debrief you.” As she went on, her voice became more and more dejected. “And the rest of the squad wants to see you. And then Allers wants an interview … ugh. We’re not really going to have time for just the two of us any time soon, are we?”

“Before you go, Miss vas Normandy,” Shepard asked before she could turn away, “I’d like to request a favor.”

“What do you need?” she asked, concern tinting her voice.

Shepard wasn’t sure how bad his face looked, but he hoped the smirk he threw up looked roguish. “I’d like to borrow your mask.”

Tali’s eyes narrowed, and the concern in her voice was replaced with suspicion. “What do you need it for?”

"Well, I’m not going to be able to kiss you while you’re wearing it.”


	11. Back in Business

Just over one-and-half months following the defeat of the Reapers, the Mass Relays connecting the major systems of the galaxy returned to operational status. It would be some time before the more backwater relays could join them, but it was a victory nonetheless. Now, all that stood between the galaxy’s military leaders and their homeworlds was ceremony. One specific ceremony, to be specific.

Tali stood on stage with the rest of the _Normandy’s_ squad. To her left, Garrus, Kaidan, Cortez, James, and Liara all looked the part of the perfectly disciplined soldiers. To her right, Joker and Traynor kept shuffling back and forth, with unprofessionally giddy expressions. Before them stood Commander Shepard, surgical scars and red cybernetics quite visible across his face. And before him stood the combined military authority of the galaxy.

As the ship’s commanding officer, Shepard received both the Palladium Star and Galactic Unit Citation on behalf of the _Normandy_. Then, one by one, each military leader pinned a medal awarded to Shepard personally on his uniform. First Admiral Hackett awarded him the Star of Terra, alongside a promotion to the rank of captain. Then Primarch Victus awarded him the Nova Cluster. Captain Kirrahe awarded him the Star of Sur’Kesh. The Asari military commander (Tali hadn’t bothered to learn her name) awarded him the Heart of the One. Wrex awarded him the Bullet of Kalros (a Krogan military award her old friend had apparently _invented_ for Shepard). Finally, Admiral Zaal’Koris awarded him the Quarian Cross of Valor.

With the now-captain properly adorned, each of the assembled members stepped forward to receive their own medals. Hackett awarded Kaidan, Cortez, Joker, Traynor, and James with the Star of Valor; he also took the time to officially welcome James into the N7 program. Primarch Victus awarded Garrus the Noa Cluster. Admiral Shala’Raan awarded Tali the Cross of Valor. The leaders gave speeches about how each crewmember on stage was an exemplar of their race, how the galaxy would be a better place with more soldiers like them, yadda yadda. The press took their pictures – a nauseating amount of them – before Hackett finally announced the _Normandy’s_ next deployment.

With repairs to the Citadel only just beginning, and every race scrambling to decide who should replace the council member and ambassadors lost in the final battle, Shepard was to take his ship and crew (minus James) on a victory tour throughout the galaxy. They were to improve morale, inspire hope, and use the combined Spectre statuses of Shepard and Kaidan to stamp out any potential opportunists taking advantage of the postwar confusion. Tali was just happy that, after a month sitting by Shepard’s bedside, she was finally going to have some _proper_ alone time with her boyfriend.

They said their goodbyes to the former members of the SR-2. Each one had plans for the future. Kasumi was already mapping out heists of rich colony worlds the war barely touched; she swore that it was to funnel hoarded funds and supplies back to the relief efforts.

“What can I say?” she told them with that cheeky grin of hers. “Stealing never goes out of style.”

“Is it really okay to let her go?” Kaidan asked. Shepard just laughed and shook his head.

Zaeed already had his retirement planned out. He’d be spending the rest of his days sipping margaritas on the Pacific coast.

“Let me know if you ever need someone’s head smashed in,” he told the crew. “I might even do it.”

Samara would help rebuild the monastery beside her daughter. She commended each of the Normandy’s crewmembers in her own words. Unlike the medal ceremony, these words actually meant something. She even urged Javik to reconsider his plan of suicide; there was so much he could still teach this cycle, so much he could add to the Protheans’ legacy. He promised to consider it, which was more than Tali had expected.

She shared one last hug with Wrex before he and Grunt returned to Tuchanka. Their plan was simple: make as many babies as possible. Tali hoped Wrex’s plan to make his people productive members of the galactic community panned out; she dreaded what any children sired by those two could be capable of.

Jacob was reinstated with the Alliance military; he’d be serving as head of security for Dr. Cole’s science team.

“This way, I’ll be with my kid no matter where we get deployed,” he explained. “I’ll raise him right. And don’t worry, I talked Brynn out of the name.” Shepard seemed relieved at that.

Finally came Jack and Miranda. Goodbyes were said with fists knocking shoulders as much as they were with words. Apparently, Miranda was going to join her unexpected girlfriend as a teacher at Grissom Academy.

“Officially, I’ve never been a member of Cerberus,” the former operative said with her trademark smirk of hers. “And a recommendation from Admiral Hackett goes a long way.”

“Banging the best damn practical instructor in the whole fucking school doesn’t hurt either!” was all Jack had to say on the matter. And that was already TMI as far as Tali was concerned.

With promises made to both aunty Raan _and_ Hannah Shepard to keep in touch (apparently Tali was in charge of keeping her future mother-in-law in the loop now), Tali stepped onto the ship whose name she wore with pride. The Reapers were dead, Shepard was alive, and Tali was in love. With swagger in her step, she made her way to Shepard’s cabin; they had half an hour until the preflight checks were complete, after all, and she knew _exactly_ how she and her captain would be spending that time.

* * *

An hour after launch, with the _Normandy_ on course for Palaven, found Shepard and Tali in front of the ship’s memorial wall. He as trying to hide it, but Tali saw how his gaze kept flickering from EDI’s name to Legion’s. She understood; aside from Hackett, she was the only one Shepard had told about the Catalyst, about the choice he made. As far as Tali was concerned, that made it _her_ responsibility to make sure Shepard understood that he made the right choice.

“I could have saved them,” he whispered.

 _But you’d be gone._ That’s what Tali wanted to say. As horrible as might sound, she’d gladly trade EDI and the Geth to keep Shepard here. She’d given so much to her people, to this ship; she was okay with being selfish about this one thing. But she knew that wouldn’t be enough for Shepard. He’d never forgotten the lives he sacrificed on Torfan; he’d never forget EDI or the Geth, either. But he didn’t need to forget them, he just needed to forgive them.

“Admiral Hackett told me an old human saying,” she said, hooking his arm in hers and resting her head on his shoulder. “’Only the good die young.’ I’m not exactly sure how I should interpret it, but I know both EDI and the Geth were very young. If there is an afterlife for synthetics, I’m sure they’re in Heaven now.”

“Arthurian legend,” he said, his eyes still on the wall.

“Excuse me?” she looked up at him with confused eyes.

“The saying comes from Arthurian legend; Galahad and the other knights who find the Holy Grail get taken up to Heaven right after bringing it to Jerusalem. They’re too pure for this world, so God lifts them up before they can become corrupted.”

“You know the most obscure things.” It wasn’t really the most appropriate thing to say, but it was the only response Tali had to that.

“Blame my father. He said it didn’t matter if you were a soldier, farmhand, or politician; everyone should appreciate the classics.”

She resettled her head on his shoulder, her gaze returning to the wall. “Well, maybe the same thing happened here. How long before Citadel authorities came after EDI? Or how long before my people decided we want more than just the southern continent? At least this way they died being a part of something good.”

Shepard kept his eyes on the wall, but she could tell he was considering what she said. She could feel it in how his right arm pulled out of her embrace and wrapped around her back. She felt it in the way his right hand, cloned fingers still aching and stiff, began stroking her upper arm. She felt in how his head moved to rest against hers.

Eventually, the captain (it would take some time getting used to his new title) pulled back and reached into his uniform, pulling out a small box. Her curiosity peaked, Tali watched silently as Shepard opened it, revealing a small, beautiful ring. Wait … weren’t rings how humans asked for marriage?!

Tali’s eyes darted to Shepard’s, heat rising in her cheeks. This hardly seemed like the appropriate time or place; she didn’t consider mourning her friends’ deaths to be particularly romantic. But still, if he really was going to ask for her hand–

“EDI gave me this,” he said.

Oh. Now Tali was blushing for a very different reason.

“It was during our shore leave. She was buying everyone gifts.”

Tali remembered that. EDI’s gift for her had been a copy of a “classic human rom-com,” as the AI had dubbed it, called _The Princess Bride_. Tali had given it a shot, but she felt most of the jokes and subtext were too rooted in human culture for her to love anywhere as much as _Fleet and Flotilla_.

“It’s called a victory ring; made from different metals from each of the council worlds. I told her I’d give it back to her once this was all over.”

“Oh, that’s…” Tali wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to say here. “Maybe Joker would like it? Something to remember her by?”

A sad smile grew on Shepard’s lips. “I already tried that. He said he didn’t need something like this to remember her. ‘And besides,’ he told me, ‘isn’t there someone else you should be giving a ring to?’” His smile grew warmer. His eyes – each a beautiful purple thanks to his cybernetics tinting his natural irises – suddenly seemed full of life. “’That’s how we honor them,’ he told me, ‘by living our best lives here and now.’” He took the ring from the box and placed it in her palm, wrapping her too-large-to-wear-the-ring fingers around it. “Tali’Zorah vas Normandy,” he said softly, holding her gaze with all love he had, “Will you marry me?”

Tali used her free hand to tear off her mask and pressed her lips to his so fast she nearly knocked him over. How the hell could she say no to that?


	12. Epilogue

Rannoch really did have the best sunsets.

Maybe it was just the beachfront view, but there was very little Captain John Shepard (10 years retired) would trade this view for. One of them had her head on his lap, sleepily sharing the view with him. He said no words to her as his fingers wandered through her black locks. He didn’t need to. Besides, raising a kid meant quiet moments such as these were rare. Their daughter (adopted, but Shepard and Tali had six rounds _each_ for anyone who said they loved her any less for it) had actually managed to fall asleep at her bedtime for once.

A small buzz on his omnitool drew Shepard’s attention. A message from Garrus read: _Liara’s stopping by tomorrow evening for the game. Care to join us? Drinks are on the house._ His old war buddy had retired with them, choosing to open Rannoch’s first-ever bar, _Archangel’s Nest_. Well, it was really just the first bar since the Quarians had returned. And even then, there were technically three others before him, but the Turian asserted the swill they served made them unworthy of acknowledgment.

“Up for visiting Garrus and Liara tomorrow?” Shepard asked.

“Hmmm,” Tali said, almost annoyed at the interruption to her first quiet evening in weeks. “I suppose so. If we can convince Raan to babysit.”

“You know she will,” was Shepard’s reply. “’Granny Raan’ can’t resist Isna’s charms.”

With that settled, the couple returned to watching the sunset in silence. They were home. They had peace. Life was good.


End file.
